


Just Rewards

by DebraHicks



Category: Rat Patrol
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-03
Updated: 2011-04-03
Packaged: 2017-10-17 11:57:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebraHicks/pseuds/DebraHicks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moffitt promised the man who saved his life, by shooting the SS major, a bottle of champagne.  However, when he finally gets the chance, he also decides to offer more than the drink.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Rewards

The small town settled into silence as the night stretched out. The tall Englishman, well hidden in a buildings shadows, sighed, it was easy when in the neutral towns to forget that there was a war on only a few miles away. Moffitt watched the tall man in civilian clothes enter the windowless building. He smiled, pleased that his target had taken the bait. For another ten minutes in stood in the night checking the street. No one was following. Pushing away from the brick wall, he walked calmly across the cobblestone street, knocked twice on the rough wood door, and spoke softly in Arabic; the words gained him immediate access. Once inside the dark waiting room it was a simple matter to show the master of the house the same invitation as that carried by the man before him. Bowing, the keeper pointed though a hanging of glass beads to a door down the hall.

 

Nodding his thanks and tightening his hold on the wrapped bundle in his arms, he marched to the other door.  He didn’t bother to knock, merely opened the unpainted door and stepped in, closing it firmly behind him.

 

Dietrich’s gun was immediately pointed at his chest. Moffitt spread his unburdened hand, and said, “This is neutral territory, Captain. Killing me will not put you in good stead with the master of the house, and I don’t think you want that.”

 

The German stared at him in complete shock. Moffitt smiled, knowing it was probably one of the few times in history someone could claim to having caught Captain Hans Dietrich speechless. Moffitt waited, unmoving, not completely sure Dietrich wouldn’t shoot him. After a very long minute the gun was slipped back into its holster.

 

“Am I to assume that it was you who sent me the note, Sergeant Moffitt?” Dietrich asked calmly.

 

“Yes,” Moffitt answered just as levelly. As his note had requested the officer was wearing civilian clothes. It seemed odd to see the usually starched uniform replaced by equally starched white shirt and black pants.  Moffitt let his eyes rove down the slender form, appreciating what he saw. He appraising stare was interrupted by a Dietrich’s impatient demand.

 

“Why did you want me, Sergeant?”

 

He almost smiled at the captain’s unconscious choice of words. “Ah, yes, well,” he stalled. Walking to the scarred dresser that was the only piece of furniture in the room besides the round, silk draped bed, he lay his bundle on top of it and started to unwrap the many layers of cloth.

 

“You see, Captain, I made a promise that I would buy a bottle of champagne for the man who shot Major Wansee.” With a flourish he pulled two glasses and a bottle out of the cotton batting. “It’s even still cold.”

 

He met the dark, almost amused stare of the German. While he waited for a reply, he calmly popped the cork and filled the two glasses.

 

Finally, Dietrich asked carefully,  “And you surmised that I was the one that shot the man?”

 

Turning back, holding out a glass, Moffitt said, “Tell me you didn’t, Captain and I will believe you.”

 

 For a long time Dietrich regarded him blandly, so long in fact that Moffitt began to doubt their assumption of the man’s actions. Then, with a fluid move, Dietrich stepped forward and took the offered glass from his hand. Moffitt smiled, raising his glass.

 

“To future joint endeavors,” he offered.

 

Dietrich paused at his choice of words then with a half a bow, took a sip of the golden liquid. He paused dramatically, savoring the taste. “An excellent choice,” he finally admitted.

 

“Ah, well, only the best for the man who saved my life,” Moffitt explained.

 

Dietrich gave him a half-smile. “I was not terribly interested in your life, Sergeant Moffitt, only that of Miss Arno and the vaccine.”

 

Moffitt tugged at his lower lip. “Yes,” he said dryly, “that would explain why you went to all that trouble with the water bag. And really, Captain, to leave the Frenchman in town was such a bad slip on your part, don’t you think?”

 

For another minute Dietrich regarded him from behind his stone mask, then he tilted his head slightly and gave a single nod. Moffitt waited, knowing the signs meant the captain had decided on a course of action. To his building hope and pleasure, Dietrich drained his glass and offered it for a refill.

 

“The man was mad,”  Dietrich explained. “As are so many of his ilk.”

 

The last part of the statement surprised Moffitt almost as much as the open admission of the shooting. “Statements like that can get you shipped very far away, Captain.”

 

To his surprise, Dietrich suddenly looked away, staring into some unseen distance. “Lately, I am beginning to believe there are worse things than being sent to the Eastern front.”

 

When the dark eyes again met his, Moffitt could see the conflict such a situation as Major Wansee must have caused for Dietrich. Treating each word carefully, he said, “Well, perhaps, when you are ready, we can offer a better alternative.”

 

For a moment Dietrich stared at him, then, very slowly a wry smile touched his full lips. “I will keep it in mind, Sergeant.”

 

The softening on the normally cold face sent a touch of heat into Moffitt’s nerves. He took a deep breath, raised his glass again. “To alternatives.”

 

Dietrich watched him closely again, in serious consideration. After a long minute, he touched his glass very lightly to Moffitt’s, then drained it. Moffitt likewise finished his off and started to pour another. Dietrich stepped away, removing his glass. Moffitt waited.

 

“And what alternatives did you have in mind, Sergeant?” Dietrich asked boldly.

 

Taken back at the sudden chance to voice what he had planned all along, Moffitt stumbled, “Yes...”

 

“I take it,” Dietrich took over the conversation, “that this location was not an accident.”

 

Trying to regain a little of his control, Moffitt smiled. “No. We both know that, Captain.”

 

“In that case, I will also take it, that you know of my occasional - indiscretion.”

 

The wording was still bold, but the coffee-colored eyes hinted at the slightest nervousness. That made Moffitt feel a little more in control, as well, as confirming what he had in fact only guessed at. “Relax, Herr Hauptman,” he assured Dietrich softly. “Ask yourself the question of how would I know if I hadn’t seen you here? And why would I be here if not for needing the same - indiscretion?”

 

Dietrich came to attention, putting his hands behind his back, but he smiled. “I have often wondered if there was more to the camaraderie than...”

 

Moffitt started laughing. “Oh Captain, be thankful I had finished my champagne or we would both be wearing it!”

 

Frowning, Dietrich said, “You and Troy...”

 

Smiling, Moffitt shook his head emphatically. “No.”

 

That seemed to confuse the German for a moment. “None of you?”

 

Despite his best attempt to stop it, Moffitt felt a blush warm his face. “Well, Hitchcock is sometimes known to make do.”

 

He didn’t know whether it was his blush or the phrasing that gained him the smile but he liked the results. Encouraged by the normalacy of a conversation anything but normal, he stepped closer to the tall officer. The smile on Dietrich’s face faded a bit as he considered something else.

 

“Does Troy know about...”

 

“Yes,” Moffitt answered, sliding closer still. “It seems during a recent bout of fever I was quite delirious and said somethings that weren’t very tactful. Once I was recovered I kept waiting for the transfer - or the punch.” He smiled warmly. “Troy came to me and told me bluntly that he didn’t think it was normal, but neither was killing people for a living. As long as it didn’t cause any problems, he didn’t care.”

 

Absently, Dietrich shook his head. “Sometimes Sergeant Troy can be surprisingly sane.”

 

Cocking his head sideways, Moffitt observed, “We seem to be talking about Troy a lot.”

 

It was his turn to catch a blush on the German’s fair, handsome face, which led to a new insight. “Ah. So, I’m not the only one to notice Troy.”

 

Dietrich looked up at him, the bold commander once more. Nodding slightly, Dietrich said, “For men of our taste, he is very noticeable.” His voice dropped. “Especially if one is attracted to dark hair and light eyes.”

 

Before Moffitt realized the control had shifted again, Dietrich stepped forward, slipped his hand behind Moffitt’s neck and pulled him into a questioning kiss, tongue brushing lightly over his lips. Moffitt’s answer was quick and to the point. He grabbed Dietrich around the waist and pulled him close, sucking the German’s tongue deep into his mouth. A soft moan of acceptance and lust sounded from Dietrich as he tightened his hold on Moffitt’s head with one hand and stroked down his throat with the other. Moffitt echoed Dietrich’s sigh, enjoying the taste of champagne and desire he was getting from the other man.

 

After a minute they stepped apart, both breathless. “Well,” Moffitt ventured cheerfully, “I see you have figured out the other half of my reward.”

 

To his surprise, Dietrich actually laughed. “Really, Sergeant, did you think I wouldn’t? I only wish you were always this easy to figure out.”

 

Closing the distance again, Moffitt reached for the buttons on the white shirt. “But then what would you do for sport, Captain, without us to chase? Or otherwise...”

 

Dietrich grabbed his wrists, eased them away from his shirt. “As much as I would enjoy a... romantic evening, I suspect neither of us has the time for a long night.”

 

Sighing, Moffitt nodded. “That’s one of the problems with war, never any time for the finer things.”

 

Moffitt was pleased to note that Dietrich undressed faster than he did, and closed for another kiss even as he dropped his shirt to the floor. Moffitt stopped him by pressing his hand into the smooth chest. “A moment to admire shouldn’t be too dangerous, Captain.”

 

A look of slight disbelief colored Dietrich’s expression even as he stepped back half a foot. Moffitt smiled at what was revealed under the uniform. As he had expected Dietrich was lean, though his ribs were more prominent under the light brown skin than he would have thought. Here and there the well muscled body was dotted with sharp white patches. Moffitt leaned forward, tracing lightly along one of the scars.

 

“You have more scars than even Hitch,” he observed.

 

“Thanks mostly to your patrol,” Dietrich said without rancor. He ran his hand up Moffitt’s arm, squeezing the hard muscles. “It is nice to be able to experience the touch of a man again.”

 

Moffitt tilted his head slightly down and kissed along Dietrich’s collarbone. “I understand. The employees here are far too pampered and soft.” His hands gripped Dietrich’s narrow hips, pulled him closer. “War does tend to keep one in fair shape.”

 

Callused hands floated down his back, but Dietrich’s words were anything but romantic. “You realize that my willingness for this... encounter doesn’t change anything,” he said frankly.

 

Moffitt met the intense eyes. With a sigh, he said, “I know, Captain, that there may come a day when one of us will kill the other. I also know that, like Troy, I will do everything in my power to avoid that.” Carefully, he added, “Just as you’ve avoided killing him on occasion.”

 

The handsome face registered stubbornness. “Sergeant Moffitt,” Dietrich started, “you and the rest of your patrol are enemies of Germany. It is my duty...”

 

With a jerk, Moffitt cut him off. “If that were true, Captain, neither of us would be here now, would we?”

 

Dietrich glanced away, though he didn’t try to pull out of the hard grasp. Moffitt knew he should stop there, should take the pleasures of the flesh and leave the philosophy alone. But he had come to respect the man pressed close to him. “And how many more Wansees will there be, Captain, before you see the truth of your situation?”

 

Anger touched Dietrich’s expression and Moffitt knew had pushed too far. The German tried to shift; Moffitt held him still, despite the fact that he was risking not only the evening but possibly being punched. To his relief, Dietrich stopped struggling and glared up at him.

 

Coldly, he said, “My situation is not open for discussion, Sergeant.”

 

Moffitt saw the conflict again, saw the doubt that was beginning to haunt the man’s eyes whenever they encountered him. Regret at having called up the expression coupled with sympathy for the man. Moffitt pulled Dietrich closer, felt the stiffness in his muscles, the tension showing his unwillingness to continue the discussion. Moffitt claimed his mouth in a gentle kiss, hands running through the fine brown hair. For a second Dietrich remained still, then, with a soft sigh of surrender, he slipped his tongue into Moffitt’s offered mouth. They both understood it was Moffitt’s way of apologizing.

 

Strong arms wrapped around Moffitt’s waist, pulling him against Dietrich, forcing his half-risen cock against Dietrich’s. Moffitt let his hands slide down the narrow back, knead the tight muscles. A slender hand slipped down over his ass, around his hip and brushed along the length of his cock. Moffitt moaned into Dietrich’s mouth, thrusting into the strong hand as his cock swelled to it’s full length. Any idea of more talk vanished in a wave of lust as he felt the strength in the other man’s touch. He tightened his hold on Dietrich’s ass, and was rewarded with a gasp and a thrust. They broke apart, breathing hard. Dietrich eased his hand away, ran it up Moffitt’s chest.

 

With a smile, Dietrich said, “It is very strange to kiss someone taller than myself. I don’t believe I’ve ever had that happen before.”

 

Returning the smile, Moffitt said, “Yes, well, since I’ve never had it happen, I can’t sympathize.”

 

Dietrich leaned forward, lay a line of light kisses along Moffitt’s collarbone, up and along his chin. Moffitt sighed, closing his eyes at the pleasure. As Dietrich started down his chest, Moffitt caught his chin and raised his face.

 

With one hand he stroked the nearly gaunt cheek. Taking a deep breath, he asked the thing he had promised himself he would. “Since this is my present, what would you like, Captain?”

 

For a moment the German studied him, obviously trying to decide how much he dared request. After a minute, there was another nod.  His hands rubbed circles along Moffitt’s chest, barely brushing the taut nipples.

 

“It is easy in a establishment such as this to find someone willing to let themselves be taken,” he explained levelly. “It is not so easy to find someone you trust enough to give yourself to.”

 

For a second Moffitt wasn’t sure he had heard correctly. Every since he had come up with the idea of getting Dietrich here, he had expected to be the one taken, an idea he had not shied away from. Now, Dietrich was asking him!  The idea seemed absurd, until he considered that here, safe within this room, was one place that Dietrich didn’t have to be in command, the one place where he could relax and let someone else lead. Moffitt swallowed hard, feeling the heat in his veins rise. More than that though there was an answering warmth that spread across his chest at the admittance of trust. He almost shook his head at the absurdity of the whole affair. Instead, he took Dietrich’s mouth again, sliding into open welcome, tasting the need in the hot kiss.

 

Easing apart, he said honestly, “I’m honored. And more than happy to comply.”

 

Dietrich made a slight sound of disbelief, but his hands urged Moffitt back into another kiss, this one gentle, probing. Moffitt held the lean form tight, moving slowly toward the bed.

 

“You think you’re the only one to have noticed someone?” he questioned lightly, easing them down into the soft bed. “I’ve noticed.”

 

A deep chuckle answered him and he looked down into eyes glittering with lust. Dietrich smiled, a wide, open smile. “To be completely honest, Sergeant, all of you are hard not to notice. Though, I confess to watching you the most.”

 

The dialog was getting too long for Moffitt, he cut it off by reaching for Dietrich’s cock, teasing his fingers lightly down the considerable length. Dietrich gasped softly, thrusting, begging for more. Moffitt eased back, watched the effect his touch had on the proud German. Dietrich was already breathing hard, sweat sparkling across his tanned cheeks. Playing lightly along the cock, Moffitt rolled the foreskin back, teased around the swelling head, rubbed his thumb over the already seeping slit. Dietrich moaned, grabbing for Moffitt’s shoulders.

 

Moffitt let his hand card lightly through the thick curls around the shaft, took another kiss. Their tongues slipped together, entwined, dueled. Sudden pressure around his straining cock made Moffitt break the kiss with a gasp. Dietrich laughed.

 

“So, I am not the only one,” he whispered.

 

“Hardly,” Moffitt breathed, letting his head fall onto the sinewy shoulder.

 

He let himself drift, let himself feel the hard body under him and the sensuous touches along his chest and straining cock. Kissing down the salty skin, he licked around each of Dietrich’s taut nipples, never quite touching the nubs, even as Dietrich’s hand tangled in his hair, urging him on. Dietrich’s other hand tightened around his cock, bringing another moan from his throat, one that was answered as he nipped on a hard nipple. Moffitt raised his head, studying down the relaxed form.

 

Looking into the chocolate-brown eyes, he said sincerely, “You are very handsome.”

 

To his delight a slight blush darkened the fair skin. “You are a flatterer, Sergeant.”

 

With a grin, Moffitt shifted his hand, squeezing the flared head, starting a slow pumping. As he did, he took another hard plunge into Dietrich’s full mouth.  Dietrich arched up into his hand, hips coming off the bed.

 

“Sergeant...” he pleaded softly.

 

Moffitt leaned away, surprised that Dietrich was so close to the edge. “Long time, Captain?” he questioned gently, hand slowing.

 

Looking slightly embarrassed, Dietrich nodded. “Much too long. You saw me here nearly a year ago, didn’t you? I know, on account of it being my last visit.”

 

With a sigh, Moffitt said, “I know it’s very difficult for me. It must be impossible for you.”  

 

Without warning, he leaned down and licked along the German’s hard cock. Dietrich arched off the bed, moaning. Moffitt smiled, his hand tightening just under where he had licked.

 

“I’m very glad you find me a suitable partner, Captain.”

 

He didn’t give the man a chance to reply. Very slowly he lowered his head, sliding the heavy shaft into his mouth, tongue swirling around the hot flesh. Closing his eyes, he let himself feel the pulse in the solid flesh, let himself enjoy the trickle of fluid from the tiny slit. Dietrich’s hands tangled in his hair, urged him down. He picked up the suction very briefly, then pulled off. Dietrich uttered a soft protest.

 

Sliding away, Moffitt stood and returned to the single piece of furniture, opening the top drawer. From the bed, he could feel the lust in his companion’s gaze. He returned to the bed, held up the vial he had retrieved. Dietrich’s eyes darkened with desire.

 

Extending his hand, he said, “Allow me, please.”

 

Moffitt handed him the vial, then slipped over to straddle Dietrich’s lean hips, his full cock jutting over the flat stomach. Dietrich lay back, unstopped the container of olive oil and poured a small amount into this hand. With slow, erotic care, he slid his hand down Moffitt’s cock. Moffitt gasped at so simple a move, leaning back to give the fine hands more freedom. Twice more Dietrich filled his hand and coated Moffitt’s cock, each time moving a little faster, a little tighter. Moffitt thrust up, heat flooding his body, each sure touch sending him higher.

 

“Stop,” he begged, gripping Dietrich’s narrow wrist. With a smile, he admitted, “It will be a very short evening otherwise.”

 

Without an answer, Dietrich handled Moffitt the vial, and rolled over, coming to his hands and knees. Closing his eyes briefly at the overwhelming sensuality in the lean body, Moffitt let his hand stroke hard down the long back. But he resisted going any further. Reaching for a pillow, he lined it up with Dietrich’s narrow hips. Confusion claimed the captain’s expression for a moment. Moffitt couldn’t resist kissing him, long and deep.

 

“Lay down, Captain,” he suggested. “I know we are on a time limit, but let me do this my way.”

 

Dietrich squinted at him, then eased himself down to the pillow, stretching with a sigh as he spread his legs wide. Moffitt smiled, moved to kneel between Dietrich’s long legs. He started at the hips, kneading the hard, sharp bones, sliding around to stroke the thick cock. Almost casually, he let one hand trail down the fine ass, rubbing hard against the base of the spine. His other hand drifted between Dietrich’s legs, rolled the taut balls. Dietrich groaned, shoving back, begging silently.

 

With a smile, Moffitt retrieved the oil, trickled it sensuously over the tight entrance to Dietrich’s body. The response was an almost pitiful moan, another gesture of trust. Laying the vial aside, Moffitt gripped his own cock, stroking it, bring it to full length. Leaning forward, he kissed the German’s strong shoulders, licked around each ear.

 

“Sergeant....” Dietrich pleaded.

 

On Dietrich’s next thrust, Moffitt shoved forward, felt the tight muscle resist for an instant then yield to his shaft. His cock slipped into incredible heat and tightness, as a small moan of pain escaped Dietrich. Moffitt held there, just barely inside, fighting every urge to plunge in and take his pleasure. Again, he let one hand pet the muscled back while his other teased the full balls. He continued to lay butterfly kisses along Dietrich’s neck.

 

“I’ve wanted this for a long time,” Moffitt admitted in a whisper.

 

“I am glad to hear that, Sergeant,” Dietrich said tightly. “I would hate to know you were not enjoying it.”

 

The smooth voice sent a shiver down Moffitt’s back. At the same time, the tension-locked muscles eased, let him slide another inch into the willing body. Moffitt pulled almost out, eased back in. The slippery oil was warmed by Dietrich’s body and Moffitt closed his eyes, letting himself float on the sensuous feel. He thrust down hard, grinding his balls against Dietrich’s ass. Dietrich cried out, arching off the bed, shoving back so hard that Moffitt nearly lost his balance.

 

“Harder!” Dietrich ordered.

 

Moffitt groaned this time, fighting against the desperate command. He built the rhythm slowly, sinking deep into the velvet, oiled flesh.  Under him he felt the strong muscles flow as Dietrich flexed, shoving back, forcing Moffitt’s cock deeper into his body. Moffitt eased back, leaving just the flared head of his cock within the tight muscle, denying the need that blazed along his nerves.

 

Dietrich nearly whimpered under him. Moffitt kneaded the strong shoulders, petted gently around the long throat. “So eager,” he muttered in German.

 

 Straightening, he held still for a moment, regaining his control. Dietrich shifted under him, urging him to move. Once more holding the narrow hips steady, he thrust in one strong stroke, nearly crying out at the incredible heat and pressure, at the Sahara fire that filled his veins.  Once again, without warning, Dietrich took command of the situation. Shoving back, Dietrich came to his knees, leaned back against Moffitt’s thighs, driving the solid cock deep, raking it against sensitive nerves, clamping muscles around it. Moffitt cried out, fingers digging into Dietrich’s hips.

 

Moffitt shoved Dietrich forward. The German ended up on his hands and knees, and glanced over his shoulder. Moffitt met the glittering dark eyes, the desire that filled them echoed in his own nerves. Swallowing, Moffitt also gained his knees. Once more, knowing it was the last of his control, he leaned over and managed one slight, gentle kiss to Dietrich’s sensuous mouth.

 

“Hang on, Captain,” he said lightly.

 

With a wicked smile that said he had accomplished exactly what he wanted, Dietrich turned away and braced himself against the old iron headboard. Moffitt slammed his cock home, groaning loudly, hearing an answering sound of pleasure from the German. The lust shredded his thoughts, tore away time and place, left only heat and need to fill his mind and blood. He was thrusting hard, caught in the erotic sight of his cock sliding into the perfect ass, the pale flesh sparkling with oil and sweat. Panting, Moffitt closed his eyes, felt his balls tighten, felt lightning start along his legs and stomach. The slick, tight passage gripped him hard and he felt Dietrich’s control evaporate under their combined lust.

 

He pumped harder, taking Dietrich’s long cock in his hand, matching the rhythm of his hand to the one his hips was setting. The shaft in his hand hardened, and the muscles he was thrusting into tightened. He fought off the orgasm building along his nerves, held still for an instant, knowing that Dietrich was there, falling over into the clear cold. The cock in his hand twitched, jumped, pumped white fluid over his hand. Dietrich moaned loud, muttering in German, trembling under Moffitt’s hands.

 

The feel of the hot liquid, the sight of Dietrich’s ass clenched around his cock and the soul-deep cry of completion finished him. Moffitt thrust once more, twisted into the strong body. His muscles locked, and he froze as sensations swept like an explosion through his body.  With a hard moan, he pumped his seed into Dietrich’s body. Dietrich, to his surprise, cried out again, trembled once more with the after-effects of the heat that had melted them together. Moffitt was shaking as hard as the captain, barely able to hold himself up. He stayed for another minute, letting the fire die, letting sanity and reality filter back into his world.

 

Dropping sideways, he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. Next to him Dietrich was panting, trying to catch his breath. Gradually, they both came back to earth. It was Dietrich who moved first, climbing slowly to the edge of the bed and reaching for the towels and small water pitcher neatly laid out on the dresser.  Moffitt watched, entranced by the subtle graceful movements. The captain turned, wet towel in one hand, dry in the other. Pleasant surprise swept through Moffitt as Dietrich gently cleaned them both off. Only when he was done did Dietrich look up.

 

The chocolate-colored eyes sparkled in the fading sunlight. “You are a surprising man, Jack Edward Moffitt.”

 

Moffitt’s eyes widened. “Wherever did you learn.... never mind. I suppose you know all about all of us.”

 

“Until tonight, I thought that true,” Dietrich admitted.

 

He stood, returned to the dresser and poured them both a glass of champagne. Moffitt sat up in the bed. Dietrich offered him the glass, as he sat gracefully down cross-legged on the bed. Moffitt took the drink, sipped it slowly, even though it had gotten warm. Their gazes connected over the golden liquid and Moffitt was pleased to note the sated look in the intriguing dark eyes. He suspected he looked much the same. The silence was comfortable, like that between old lovers, not two men who would the next day be trying to kill each other. As he finished the glass, Dietrich retrieved it and returned them both to the table. As Moffitt watched the man dressed quickly, silently.   

 

Still in silence, Dietrich sat back down next to him. Moffitt waited, willing to let the silence fill in for the words that couldn’t exist between them. Dietrich leaned over, gently stroked Moffitt’s cheek, kissed very lightly along his lips. When Moffitt reached for him though, he slipped away.

 

Standing up, Dietrich smiled again. “Thank you, Sergeant Moffitt, for a most enjoyable evening. And a most memorable present.”

 

“You’re very welcome, Captain,” Moffitt said as he returned the smile.

 

With that, Dietrich turned toward the door. It was only as he opened it to leave that Moffitt said, “Captain.”

 

Dietrich turned, squinting at him.

 

“Don’t forget there are alternatives,” Moffitt suggested.

 

A slight incline of strict posture was the only answer he got before Dietrich closed the door behind him.

 


End file.
